Post-title

Come what may,
The May sailor and the wayfarer,
Come to the may side--
The wayside, where we may hide
And inside the rise with the fourth
The wind that came and from the simper
Of simplicity, we see the city lights from afar.
The sad catastrophic movement and
the mitigation of prose from the politics nose
and the place where we came from the inside
was the place that crept in and hid
From the monsters that came from outside.
It’s a winter storm, a snow collapse.
Perpetual fear nation is inside
And from the outside as the faith did spray
That gold rains from the stars and
From the sky comes and new peril:
Assassination of the politics and
consummation of the rhetoric.
Magic ways and children that smile;
A laugh, a thought, fleeting
as coming inside,
As laying outside when
In the autumn
the laugh raises
loving ways.